


First

by DestinyFreeReally



Category: The Newsroom (US TV)
Genre: F/M, Post-Canon, Post-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-24
Updated: 2017-08-24
Packaged: 2018-12-19 08:24:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11893821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DestinyFreeReally/pseuds/DestinyFreeReally
Summary: After Charlie's death, Mac visits Nancy Skinner for brunch and takes a lot away from the visit.





	First

     Three weeks after the day Charlie died, Mac slipped herself out of her newly-broken-in marital bed, and took a cab out to the Skinners’ place.    
  
     “I brought bagels and cream cheese,” Mac smiled with some-difficulty, at Nancy Skinner’s own difficult smile, “figured you might want some company and some brunch.”   
  
    In the weeks Will had been in prison, Mac figured she ate more meals with Charlie than he got to have with his family, and the thought had been bothering her more than she could admit.    
  
     “You look beautiful, Mac,” Nancy welcomed her, no one ever got left on the Skinners’ doorstep, “how are you feeling?”   
  
    More than once, Mac remembered Charlie calling his wife a saint, and Mac blinked, admiring the truth of his statements.    
  
    “How am I feeling?” Whistling her disbelief, Mac shook her head, “I’m here to see how you’re doing, Nancy. But I’m feeling alright; Will’s going to drive me mad by the time this kid crawls out of me, you know how he is.” Smiling, Mac thought about the volumes of  _ What To Expect _ that littered their new, half-furnished apartment. He was on a mission, to be the most-educated, most-prepared first-time parent to ever have a kid. The foot-rubs anytime Mac asked weren’t going to get old, though. “It’s sweet, but I needed some air; how  _ are _ you doing?”   
  
    Grasping Mac’s hand, Nancy smiled slow, and really thought about her answer.    
  
    “It’s not easy, but the kids help,” Nancy’s eyes flicked down to Mac’s middle, where a tiny McAvoy was just starting to be made, “they’re worried about me.” Dropping Mac’s hand to get plates for the bagels, Nancy set them up at the kitchen table. The dining room had become a hotbed of activity since Charlie’s death; second-cousins and estate lawyers debriefed her in the dining room. Bagels and chitchat were for the kitchen table.    
  
    Reaching for two coffee cups, Nancy stilled, her thumb on the lip of a ‘69 Mets World Series Champion mug.    
  
    “I married a good man, Mackenzie; the problem with marrying good men is that it’s very difficult to be angry with them when they leave you.” Pulling her hand back from the mug, Nancy braved a watery smile, and they talked for over an hour. About Will, about News Night, about Nancy’s kids, and grandkids, and Mac’s new promotion.    
  
    When Mac finally let herself back into her own home, she felt exhausted.    
  
    “Hey, how was brunch?” Will peered over his glasses,  _ What To Expect When You’re Expecting _ cracked open in his hands, and Mac smiled so hard her cheeks hurt.    
  
     “We need to get a few things straight, you and me.” Sinking into the couch next to him, Mac took the book from him, delicately folded the corner of page 104 and placed it on the coffee table. She pulled herself into his lap, and still blinking on the tears she’d been barely keeping at bay all through brunch, Mac cleared her throat. “I absolutely need… no, demand. I absolutely demand to go first. If you die, and leave me alone, I will be so furiously angry with you, and so I demand to go first.”   
  
    Tucking her face, eyes closed into his Sunday best (a t-shirt from the 2004 NYC Marathon, and plaid pajama-bottoms) Mac took a deep breath, trying to etch every moment they had together in her memory.    
  
   “Go…  _ first _ .” Will slid his hands down her back; how was a grown, human person so tiny? “I’m not sure that’s something that’s strictly… produce-able, Mac.” He said softly, into her hair. His dad got 83 years on earth, and Charlie deserved more than that. Death wasn’t something you could object to in a courtroom, it wasn’t malleable under human law or emotion.   
  
    “Well, that’s what we’re getting straight, right here and now, Billy.” Mac leaned up, looking at him, straight on. “I’m gonna pump you full of fiber, and whole-wheat pizza, and turkey-bacon-only, so I can get a full fifty years out of you and then I get to go first. Because…” Thinking about Nancy, frozen in her own kitchen, staring at her husband’s favorite novelty mug, made Mac want to curl up and cry for the rest of the weekend. “Nancy Skinner is a superhero, she absolutely is, and I can’t be that, I can’t shake hands with all your friends and start waking up alone, again, and have to go through all your things, I just can’t, Will. You know me, I'm not the sort of person to depend on a man to give my life meaning, but we're doing it- the whole, big, have-a-life-together scary thing, and if we do it well I'm gonna be more in love with you than I am now, and if you leave me after all that, I just...”   
  
    Smoothing a tear from her chin, Will swallowed the lump in his throat, determined to be rational one in a marriage where they’d constantly be trading off who got to wear the rational hat.     
  
    “But you want  _ me  _ to do that? Wake up alone, and go through all your things?” Weak smile coming to his lips, Will shook his head when Mac nodded.    
  
    “Is that unfair?” She asked, running her fingers through the tiny hairs on the back of his neck. He could go bald, he could grow impossibly wrinkled, he could trade his Armani suits for elastic-waist-only pants; Mac didn’t care how he finished the race just as long as she crossed the line first.    
  
   “A little, honey, yes.” Pressing his lips to her top lip, he hoped that was the end of it. They’re about to bring life into the world, it’s the thing they can cling to when the thought creeps back in that Charlie’s really gone.    
  
    Curling back into him, Mac’s coming back from the brink again, tucked under his chin.    
  
    “What do you think  about cryogenic freezing?” Mac asked, her eyes still closed against him.    
  
    “I think it’s for rich people who don’t come to terms with their mortality.” Softly, Will kissed the crown of her head.    
  
    “You’re rich, aren’t you?” She said, half-teasing. She’d have to go first, that’s all there was to it. 


End file.
